


Together

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Miscarriage, Omega Reader, Romance, Sadness, relationship drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 03:28:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10152530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: An flangsty oneshot inspired by a request sent in to me a few weeks ago. Dean and the reader go through a trauma that no one should ever have to endure.





	

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Dean stood at the window, looking through the horizontal blinds into the small hospital room. It was decorated in pleasant yellows and greens, downplaying the sterile white of the bedsheets and curtains. On the bed, huddled on her side with her back to him, his Omega lay, covered with the dotted hospital gowns that seemed to swamp her.

‘Sir?’ The doctor’s voice caught his attention, and he looked up, weary green gaze focusing on the smart looking Doctor Wearing who’d been attending them since Y/N had been admitted. ‘Your wife is resting now, I -’

‘She’s not my wife,’ Dean murmured, something sharp jabbing into his chest as he said it. They’d talked about it, but marriage wasn’t something she’d deemed important. What they’d had was enough.

The doctor gave him a gentle smile and a nod. ‘My apologies. I assumed, being her Alpha -’ he stopped, looking down at the clip chart in his hands. Dean licked his lips, finding them dry and sore all of a sudden. ‘Miss Y/L/N is recovering well. She needs plenty of rest, fluids, and I’ve got some pamphlets for support groups that may help.’ He sighed. ‘There is some paperwork that needs to be taken care of -’

‘Whoa, whoa,’ Sam’s voice interrupted, and he appeared in Dean’s peripheral vision, the elder barely blinking as his brother approached, intervening and taking the paperwork from the doctor. ‘I can take care of this, doctor.’

‘And you are?’ The question wasn’t rude, but more inquisitive, and Sam smiled.

‘I’m his brother. Y/N is my best friend. They don’t need to deal with this right now, I can… I can take care of everything.’

The doctor nodded. ‘Very well,’ he replied softly. ‘Y/N doesn’t need any more medical assistance. She simply needs plenty of rest and care. Our unit number is on the pamphlets, if there are any other questions or problems.’

‘Thank you, doctor,’ Sam whispered, looking down at the paperwork. Doctor Wearing moved away, and Sam turned to Dean, sparing a glance for Y/N through the window. ‘You should go in there.’

‘I think she’s sleeping,’ Dean mumbled, his tone even and emotionless. He didn’t even seem like he was all there; the bags under his eyes were deep, his skin sallow and pale, making his freckles more pronounced on his nose. Sam’s expression filled with sympathy, and he reached out, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder. ‘What if she doesn’t wanna see me, Sammy?’ The words broke on his lips, and his eyes shone with unshed tears.

‘You need each other in this, Dean. She’s gonna need you.’ Sam gestured to the door. ‘Go on. I’ll get you some coffee, and we’ll sort out getting her home.’

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Shit, the nursery…’ They’d already started decorating and getting things ready. It would kill her to see all of that.

Sam shook his head. ‘I already took care of it. Everything is hidden or gone… until you’re both ready.’ He sighed. ‘She’s hurting, Dean. You’re hurting. The only way you get through this is together.’

The elder Winchester nodded, shrugging out from underneath his brother’s hold, moving to the door. Y/N didn’t move as he walked in, shutting Sam outside, and for a second he hesitated. He didn’t know what to say, or what to do. It felt like he was intruding into a personal bubble, that it wasn’t fair he felt this grief too when it was her that had gone through the physical trauma; when it was her that had carried their baby for five months and then… and then…

He couldn’t even help the sob that tore itself from his lips, and it was then that Y/N moved. She turned, raising her head at an awkward angle to look at him, and Dean felt his own tears escape as he met her swollen red eyes. His first couple of steps were almost stumbled, and for a second, he didn’t know which side of the bed to go to, but then she held her arms out to him, and he was there, crawling onto the thin mattress and letting her curl into his chest.

Her tears soaked his shirt as he held her close, pressing kisses into her hair, trying to keep his own grief silent as his Omega sobbed against him. He felt her hands ball into tiny fists on his chest over and over.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, and Dean’s eyes squeezed shut, the pain twisting in his gut.  _ She  _ was apologising? How in the hell could she think this was her fault?

‘You didn’t do anything,’ he muttered back, his voice muffled where he buried his face into her hair. She sobbed loudly against him, her body shuddering with the force of it. ‘This wasn’t your fault… none of it, you hear me?’ He struggled to keep his voice even, his arms squeezing her tightly, and her cries became louder, the damp patch on his shirt growing.

‘But we wa-waited so l-long -’ The words were halting in the face of the sobs that wracked her body. ‘And… and then… and…’ She couldn’t even get the words out, and stopped, pressing her face harder into him. The hard bridge of her nose felt like it was bruising him, but he didn’t care, too intent on giving her what she needed.

All they had now was each other.

*****

You didn’t know what to say to him. The whole drive back to the bunker, feeling empty and desolate, you stared out of the window in the back of the car, trying to ignore the pang of pain whenever you saw a family or a young child. Dean didn’t speak either, and Sam kept his mouth shut, which all added up to a tense atmosphere, but what were any of you supposed to say?

When you returned, Dean was quick to open the car door for you, sticking close to your side as you headed into the old building, and your first instinct was to snap at him, tell him you weren’t fragile, and you could manage to walk.

But the words died on your lips. He was as lost as you - you knew that, and you wished you knew how to make him feel better, knowing he was going through exactly the same dilemma. Neither of you knew what to do, how to make the numbness and quiet go away. You felt like you were all out of tears, like there was nothing left to do except stay still and silent.

There was the physical pain to deal with. You were bleeding and would be for some time, according to the doctor. Everything that had happened was hazy, and you were glad of that. The drugs they’d given you to relief the pain of… it had helped to block it out. You hadn’t looked, you’d simply cried and begged for it to be over.

You’d never imagined you’d be coming home without…

It was too hard to even think the words.

For nearly two years, you’d longed for it, you’d had to talk Dean around from his opinion that having a child in the life was stupid. When he’d finally gotten used to the idea, you’d expected to be pregnant within the space of your next heat. But it didn’t happen. And three more heats passed before you realised something wasn’t right. It had almost driven a wedge between you, and you’d felt like a failure as a woman and an Omega. Eventually, you’d gone to a doctor, and discovered that you had low fertility, which was rare for a relatively young Omega, and it only compounded the failure you’d felt.

Dean had been optimistic in his own Dean kind of way. He’d timed everything, almost becoming more intent on it happening than you were.

And when it finally had happened, he’d been more excited than a kid with a puppy at Christmas. He’d made plans, and you’d been overwhelmed with everything; happy, but overwhelmed.

Then you’d failed again.

You knew, logically, it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have controlled what happened, but you’d never forget waking up to blood-soaked sheets and pain that felt like it was tearing you in two. Dean had kept calm in the face of your panic, driving you to the hospital, taking care of everything - he’d damn near fought the nurses when they said he had to leave, eventually making them relent, and he’d stayed with you through the whole thing. He’d held your hand, stroked your hair and wiped away your tears.

But you’d still failed him.

Now, back at home, with empty arms, and what felt like an empty heart, you couldn’t ever bear to look him in the eye. He took you to your shared bedroom, not speaking a word, but his hold on you was firm, almost like he was afraid he’d lose you too if he let go. You didn’t fight him when he’d put you to bed, citing the doctor’s orders of rest.

You couldn’t face sleep. It would either be nightmares or painful dreams, so you were resigned to lying on your side and staring at the wall - you didn’t protest when Dean said he was going to go to the library. Most likely, he’d be fixing himself a drink or three, and you couldn’t blame him for resorting to his usual coping methods. Maybe he’d find a hunt, and that would help him.

It didn’t feel like anything would help you.

Turned out you’d been wrong; you weren’t out of tears at all.

*****

‘It’s been a week,’ Sam mumbled, placing a coffee in front of Dean, who looked up at him with bleary eyes. ‘She hasn’t come out of your room.’ Dean nodded, sighing and looking down into the murky brown liquid. ‘It’s not healthy to lock herself away.’

‘I know that,’ Dean replied quietly, picking up a spoon and dropping more sugar than was necessary into his drink. ‘But I don’t want to force her into anything she’s not ready for. She’s still weak, and she’s crying all the time… she thinks I don’t know, but it’s easy to tell. I just… I don’t know what to do to comfort her.’

‘Just being there helps, I’m sure.’ Sam took a seat opposite his brother, wrapping his hands around his own mug. ‘But fresh air would probably do her some good. Why don’t you take her for a walk? Plenty of woodland around here.’

Dean shrugged. ‘Maybe.’ He kept stirring the sugar into the coffee, spacing out as Sam watched in concern. ‘I read the pamphlets. I left them on the bedside tablet but I don’t think she’ll look at them. I know I wouldn’t be comfortable talking to a bunch of strangers about… about what happened.’ He couldn’t bring himself to say the words either, just like she couldn’t. Several times, he’d tried to encourage her to open up but when he couldn’t do it himself, he wasn’t going to force her.

Both Winchesters sat in silence for a few moments, sipping at their respective coffees, before Dean cleared his throat, another sigh leaving him.

‘You’re gonna be fine, Dean,’ Sam said, picking up on his brother’s apprehension. ‘You’ll get through this, together. And you know I’m here, for both of you. Anything you need, right?’

Dean nodded, smiling a little, grateful for his brother’s presence. ‘I know. And I’m beyond grateful.’ He scrubbed a hand over his face. ‘I’m gonna go and run her a bath. Maybe it will help relax her, and then I’ll try get her out for a walk.’ He paused for a moment, thinking. ‘Could you make her some of that nice hippy smelling tea she likes?’

‘Of course I can.’ Sam smiled, standing at the same time as Dean. His big brother gave him a short nod, before abandoning the kitchen, padding down the hallway. He headed for the bathroom first, starting the bath running, pouring in the aromatherapy salts he’d bought Y/N last Christmas. Knowing her penchant for baths hot enough to make her look a little like a lobster, he kept the water hot for a while longer, until the room was filled with steam.

As he left the bathroom, Sam was walking down the hallway with the tea, stopping outside the bedroom Dean shared with Y/N. He looked hesitant, and locked his eyes with Dean’s as his brother approached, silently conveying his thoughts. It was understandable he’d be torn about entering the bedroom; it was like her sanctuary now.

‘I’ll take it in,’ Dean offered, holding out his hands for the tray. ‘Thanks, Sammy.’

Sam smiled tightly, giving his brother a sharp nod. He didn’t need to reiterate his promise to be there for whatever they needed, but he wasn’t too dense to understand than what they needed right now was time alone.

Dean watched his brother leave, before balancing the tray on one hand and opening the bedroom door slowly. The lights inside were dimmed, and Y/N was curled up in the middle of the bed, the covers around her like a cocoon, her hair in a messy halo around her head. She didn’t move as he entered, but her eyes flickered up to watch him cross the short space between the door and the bed.

‘Hey,’ he greeted, setting the tray down over the pamphlets that hadn’t moved since he’d put them there a few days before. Foregoing the usual “how are you” sentiments, that he felt were pretty useless, he smiled softly, reaching out to push back a strand of hair from her face. ‘Sam made you that tea you like. The one that smells like a flower shop.’

He was rewarded with a small smile, barely a twitch of her lips, but it reached her eyes, and she moved. It was slow, starting with her feet as she pushed herself up the bed a little, allowing him the space to sit beside her, and Dean automatically handed her the warm cup of tea. She sipped at it, keeping her eyes on his.

‘I ran you a bath. With those salts I got you for Christmas. I think I got the ratio right this time, so it won’t feel like you have sand in your ass.’ Dean chuckled at his own joke, and Y/N’s smile grew a little larger, warming his pained heart. ‘You feeling up to it?’

She didn’t speak, but she nodded gently, still sipping at her tea. Dean didn’t push for any more, happy to see her smile, happy to see her simply upright. He stood up, moving away from the bed to the chest of drawers, still chatting as he turned his back to her.

‘I’ll grab you a towel and some clean clothes. I thought… I mean, if you’re up to it…’ He hesitated, wondering if he was putting too much on her at once, but he couldn’t help himself. She’d been more responsive in the last five minutes that she’d been for a week, and it made him bolder in his words as he rifled through the open drawer to find her something clean to wear. ‘It’s a really nice day outside, and we could go for a walk -’

Dean stopped as he heard the tea cup land back on the saucer, the slight chime making him turn, concerned he’d upset her. Instead, he watched as she turned herself in the bed, swinging her legs over the edge.

‘You don’t have to do this,’ she whispered, her voice barely audible and croaky from the countless tears she’d shed.

He frowned. ‘Do what?’

‘Pretend like you don’t hate me.’ He wasn’t even sure it was possible that her voice became even quieter, and his heart thudded in his chest like a jackhammer at her words. ‘I did this to us. I couldn’t… I wasn’t… I’m a failure. As an Omega, as a woman...’

Dean’s mouth opened and closed as he processed her statement, incredulity making his face twist into a scowl. Y/N chose that moment to look up, and he could see fresh wetness in her bloodshot eyes. She pushed herself upwards, using her hands to untangle the covers from her thighs, before tugging down her wrinkle sleep shirt.

‘I know I let you down, Dean. I don’t expect you to forgive me, and I don’t want to force you to be here with me. I can’t look at myself in the mirror, so I don’t know how you can stand to be in the same room as me.’ She rolled her shoulders, almost like she was forcing herself to bring her chin higher and look him in the eye. ‘I’m just… I’m just letting you know that you don’t have to -’

‘Stop,’ he said suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut for a second as he felt the sting of tears threaten. His chest constricted, and he exhaled a shaky breath, before opening his eyes to look at her again. ‘Don’t say that.’ Within two steps he was in front of her, reaching up to cup her face, using his thumb to wipe away the tear that fell from her eye. ‘You could never let me down. There’s nothing to forgive.’

She frowned. ‘But, I -’

Dean shook his head, raising his other hand to completely hold her face between them, his fingers splayed across her cheeks. ‘Baby, you’re hurting. We’re both…’ He swallowed around the lump in his throat, feeling wetness escape his eyes. ‘We’re both hurting, but we can get through this. We can grieve, and heal. Together.’ She nodded, a sob leaving her dry lips, and he couldn’t help but cry with her. Instinct drove him to pull her close, to wrap his arms around her and bury his nose in her hair as she cried into his chest. Her scent surrounded him, and comforted him, despite the misery they both felt.

Maybe this was progress. If she’d spent all this time thinking he was forcing himself to be with her, and now she knew he wasn’t, maybe they could both move forward.

*****

It became a routine.

Dean would run you a bath, and he’d sit with you whilst you relaxed in the hot water. He was getting better at drawing them, better at making sure the salts didn’t gather at the bottom of the tub and chafe when you sat on them. It was helping you heal physically at least - the pain was less than it had been, and the bleeding had stopped. You didn’t feel quite so… empty.

Weeks passed, and the weather improved, meaning that you and Dean were taking more and more walks through the woods around the bunker. It was isolated, and pretty, and sometimes you did nothing more than walk hand in hand, not speaking a word.

Things were quiet now; no looming apocalypses or big bads disturbing the peace. It was nice, despite the heartache, to spend some time just being. You couldn’t say that you didn’t still hurt, maybe you always would, but knowing that Dean didn’t blame you, that made it easier to forgive yourself. You weren’t all the way there yet, and Dean didn’t push you for anything; it made you all the more grateful to have him as your Alpha.

Six weeks after it happened, your heat hit. You woke up in the middle of the night, overheated, sweating and cramping, and Dean was seconds behind you in waking up. Almost immediately, he backed away, and the gesture rocked you, bringing back every feeling of failure and insecurity you’d felt.

‘Dean?’

‘I know, it’s okay,’ he whispered, climbing from the bed and turning the bedside lamp on. ‘I’ll go make you up a bath.’

You reached out, whimpering as another cramp swept through your lower body, your arms automatically wrapping around your stomach to try and futily stave off the pain. Dean paused, unsure whether to leave you or not, before coming around to your side of the bed, kneeling on the carpet beside you.

‘Just breathe, baby, don’t fight it.’ It was clear your scent had him on edge, and he reached out a shaky hand to you, taking your fingers as you raised your eyes to look at him. ‘I know it hurts, the doctor said the first time would be hard. I’ll get you a bath done, and you can relax. It’ll help. I promise.’ He climbed to his feet, almost swaying a little as he leaned in a pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Then he was gone, and you curled back into the sheets, not moving for long moments until he returned, his strong arms slipping around you and lifting you from the bed. Dean carried you through the bunker to the bathroom, easily undressing you and helping you into the tub, smoothing your sweat-soaked hair back from your forehead. With every second that passed, he muttered soft words to you, calming you from the panic you were feeling.

‘It’s okay, just relax.’ He swirled one hand around in the tub by your thigh, careful not to touch you. ‘Just let the hot water do its thing, sweetheart.’

You nodded, sinking down a little further and letting the water cover everything from your toes to your neck. Dean watched for a second, before picking up a washcloth over your sensitive skin, cleaning the sweat and grime from your heat away.

‘Dean…’ He stopped as you rasped his name, looking up at you. ‘I’m sorry.’

He gave you a brief smile. ‘You keep apologising for nothing.’

‘I didn’t take the pills they gave me.’

‘The suppressants?’ He asked, and you nodded, prompting him to shake his head gently. ‘They’re no good for you anyway. Better to get it out of your system. I can look after you, it’s fine.’

You let your eyes fall shut as the hot water soothed the cramps and pain, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips. ‘How’d I get so lucky with you?’

Dean chuckled, resuming his gentle washing, the cloth barely registering as you felt exhaustion seep into your bones. ‘I think it’s the other way round, beautiful.’ There was no reply to his words as you let sleep take you, your Alpha keeping watch over you.

When you woke again, you were back in bed, dressed in thin, loose pyjama shorts and a t-shirt, and Dean was nowhere to be found. On the dresser, there was a fan, aimed at your spot on full power, cooling the room. A sandwich sat on a plate on top of the bedside table, along with a glass of orange juice, and you smiled as you sat up, knowing Dean was responsible.

As if he’d heard you, the door opened, and he slipped in, smiling brightly at you. ‘Hey, you’re awake. How are you feeling?’

‘Better,’ you replied, reaching for the sandwich, mostly at the command of your growling stomach. ‘You didn’t have to stay away.’

Dean chuckled, sitting at the end of the bed. ‘I wasn’t staying away. You’ve been out for hours, I was just getting some things done.’ He watched as you took a large bite of the sandwich, relief evident in his eyes. ‘It’s good to see you eating.’

You paused, looking down at the sandwich in your hands. It was true, you knew you hadn’t been eating much, or doing much of  _ anything _ , but right now, it felt like you were starving. The heat was most likely to blame, but for now, seeing Dean happier was making you feel happier. ‘It’s really good,’ you replied, covering your mouth to conceal the sandwich still in your mouth. ‘Sorry.’

He grinned. ‘Stop saying sorry. It’s really good to see that beautiful sparkle in your eyes again, you know that?’ You blushed, taking another bite of the sandwich, making little noises of happiness as you ate. Dean sat and watched you finish, but it didn’t feel like how he’d watched in the beginning, like he was pressuring you to eat, to drink, to  _ be normal _ . 

‘That hit the spot,’ you said, placing the last bite between your lips. ‘Thank you.’

‘What else are Alpha’s for?’ He asked, standing up and taking your plate, pressing a kiss to your temple, before placing it on the side. ‘You feeling up to a short walk?’ You nodded, and he beamed, passing you the glass of juice. ‘Awesome. I need to go check in with Sam and then we’ll head out.’

You nodded with a smile, sipping at the orange. ‘I’ll get dressed.’

Twenty minutes later, you’d dressed and grabbed your coat, walking through the bunker to find Dean in the library, finishing up a phone call with Sam. The younger Winchester had taken a solo hunt in Wisconsin, and wouldn’t be back for a couple of days. As he wished his brother good luck, he hung up, looking over at you and smiling again.

It made your heart skip a happy beat to see him smile.

‘Sam says he’s glad you’re feeling better, and he’s gonna be home in a few days. He picked up the new boxset of that series you two were watching…’ He paused, coming towards you where you stood almost in a daze. ‘You okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ you replied, leaning into him, sliding your fingers up through the lapels of his shirt. ‘Just didn’t realise how much I missed you.’

Dean looked puzzled for a second. ‘I’ve been right here.’

You shook your head. ‘Neither of us have. Not really. But… I feel like we’re getting there.’ A smile covered your face again, matching Dean’s. ‘Are we going for this walk, or not?’ He nodded, reaching around you to grab his coat from the back of the chair. Slipping it on, he took your hand and both of you made your way out of the bunker into the woods.

This walk felt different, but neither of you spoke, holding hands tightly and walking the usual path through to the slight clearing half a mile away, the one you’d found on an early walk. It was nearly summer, and the plants were in full bloom, making the entire clearing fill with a rainbow of colour. As you started to move along the path, Dean’s hand caught on yours, and you turned back to see him stopped in his tracks.

‘Dean?’

‘Marry me,’ he said, suddenly, and you felt your mouth drop open, your fingers untangling from his as you turned to him fully.

‘What?’

‘Marry me,’ he repeated, stepping closer, cupping your face with both hands. ‘You’re my Omega, and I know you said that was enough, but I want… I want everything with you. I nearly… I nearly lost you,’ he paused, his voice thickening with his words. ‘And I can’t imagine doing this crazy thing without you. So I want you to marry me, and be Mrs Winchester.’

You stared at him, feeling the warmth of his hands on your face matching the warmth of the sun on the rest of you. ‘This is kinda sudden.’

‘I know, I know, and maybe we’re crazy, but fuck, Y/N, I wanna be crazy together.’

‘Together?’ You repeated the word and Dean nodded, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks, and you felt your next question stick in your throat for a moment. ‘But not just you and me, right?’ 

Dean laughed, his eyes watery as he shook his head. ‘No. Not just you and me. I know it’s soon, and I don’t expect  _ anything _ from you. I just want you to know that. But if you want,  _ whatever _ you want… I want it too.’

You felt tears well in your eyes as you nodded enthusiastically, a mixture of a sob and a laugh leaving you as you kept jerking your head in his grasp. ‘Yes, Dean. Yes, I’ll marry you.’

He exhaled the breath you didn’t notice him suck in, and his entire body relaxed for a second before he pressed his lips to yours. ‘Thank fuck. I thought you were gonna tell me that I’m crazy.’

‘You are,’ you replied, laughing. ‘We’re crazy together.’

Dean smiled, kissing you again.

This was how it was supposed to be.


End file.
